Working Out the Kinks
by The Unbreakable Snape Fan
Summary: Tim Shepard/Dallas Winston. This is a sequel to A New Thing for the Not Exactly Normal.
1. Chapter 1

**Working Out the Kinks**

"Oh god, no, come on!" Tim had looked up from the paper to see Dally messing with that fuckin' record player again. Hank Williams started blaring from it. But that wasn't even the worst part. Well, actually, he didn't know if it was worse that Dally was serenading him or if it was worse that it was Hank Williams in the first place.

"Heeeeeeeeey, good lookin'. Whaaaaaatcha got cookin'? How's about cookin' somethin' up with me?" Dally started, and Tim just had no good defense against that off-key, passionate singing. Except that it was Hank Williams.

Just as Dally started singing, "Said heeeeeey, sweet baby. Doooooon't you think that maybe," Tim was already striding over to the record player. He turned it off, but Dally pulled him into his arms anyway, still singing to him, loudly.

He didn't know what had put Dally in such a bright mood, but he hated whatever it was. He struggled for a little bit, but, after a glance over to make sure the curtains were shut, he relaxed into it, dancing a little with Dally, humoring him.

"I got a hot-rod Ford and a two dollar bill, and I know a spot right over the hill."

"There's soda pop and the dancin's free," Tim murmured. It earned him a kiss from Dally, along with a dip he wasn't expecting at all that made him push Dally when he got his bearings.

"I'm gonna find my datebook and throw it over the fence," Dally said, grabbing Tim again, nosing at his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You'll get a new one and write my name down on every page. That song is so sissy."

"No it ain't!" He stepped back. "I love that song."

"Yeah, I know." He went in for a gentle kiss. "I bet you like _all_ sissy love songs."

"If you sang 'em I would."

"You're such an idiot," Tim said, tugging Dally back toward the couch, fully intent on doing some serious necking. But Dally pulled him the opposite way.

"Bedroom."

Tim paused, letting go of Dally's hand.

"Bedroom," Dally repeated.

"Look, Dal. I know you're in a good mood, but we ain't gonna get nowhere."

"We gotta try," he said, starting to head toward his room, stopping when he realized Tim wasn't following him. So he started working his shirt off. A fuck was a fuck no matter where it was.

"I'll come with if you promise we won't try it tonight. We're both in a good mood; let's let it stay that way."

Dally grunted in reply, finishing working his shirt off. "You gotta suck me off, though."

Tim hooked his fingers in Dally's belt-loops, looking at him predatorily with a lick of his lips. "That's punishment?"

Dally ignored that, wiggling his hips slightly, grinning when two strong hands cupped his ass through his jeans. "Well, when are we gonna try again?"

He kneaded Dally's ass a little through the denim. Dally tried to ignore how tight his jeans were getting in the front. "We don't gotta," Tim husked.

"You _liked_ it," Dally accused. "You liked it, and I want to like it too!" He pulled Tim's hands off of him.

"You'll just push me away!"

"So what?"

"So _what_?! I'd like to see you get inside _my_ ass and then just try to stop yourself. I did it once. I probably won't stop if it happens again."

"Fine," Dally said after a second. "Fine. Your mouth better be _really_ good tonight, Tim, or I'm takin' you up on the offer."

"What offer?"

"This offer." Dally gripped Tim's ass through his jeans, just like Tim had been doing to him. Tim swallowed.

Then he shoved Dally. "The _fuck_ you will."

"The fuck I _will_. It'll be a great fuck." He eyed Tim up and down, undressing him with his eyes.

"I don't care if you say there ain't no woman. There's a woman, and it's you."

"So make a woman outta me," Dally challenged, turning around and pressing himself back against Tim's crotch, rubbing like a broad dancing dirty.

Tim gripped his hips and held him there. "You'll cry again, Winston. You'll cry. And then, if I back off, you'll just get mad at me again. But if I keep going, you'll get mad too." It was a fucking paradox. He rubbed back against him a little, hot denim on hot denim.

"I've been puttin' fingers in myself," Dally said angrily.

"Practicing?" Tim laughed a little, and Dally jerked out of the grip.

"Don't you _want_ to?" he huffed, looking real pissed off and almost vulnerable because of it. It had been over a month and a half since that first time they'd tried it. "Don't you fuckin' laugh at me!" he warned.

"Naw, I don't want to no more."

Dally moved over to the couch and just sat. He put his face in his hands.

"Shit." Tim worked his own clothes off, all of them, and pulled Dally up off the couch. "Stop blubberin'. I owe ya a suck, don't I?" he said as he moved Dally toward the room.

"Damn right you do." Dally hadn't been crying, but his chest definitely ached with hurt. "Dammit, Tim, how we gonna be normal if you keep lettin' me off the hook?"

"Maybe my hook don't want you on it."

"Shut up. You'd want it if I hadn't never been . . . you know, forced."

"I just don't like the sight of you cryin'. Screaming with how good I can make your ass feel, maybe."

Dally leaned back against the door to his room. "Tim, if I don't practice gettin' into the habit, even a little at a time, I won't be normal."

"You're _never_ normal," Tim grumbled. "You think wantin' me to fuck you is normal?"

"Yeah, I do. C'mon, Tim, give me another chance."

"Fine. Fine. But not tonight."

"Okay, but when?" Dally wrapped his arms around Tim. "When, baby?"

"Next week sometime."

"You swear?"

"You really been practicing?"

"I'll do it when we get in the room, if you don't believe me."

Tim paused, considering it. What would Dal look like, working himself open with those knobby-looking fingers of his? He decided he had to find out. "Okay, so do it. Get in there."

"You have me pressed against the door, hot shot." Dally looked up at him in that falsely coy way, batting lashes, licking lips. It turned Tim on a little more, just like Dally knew it would.

Tim moved, turning the knob of the door and pushing it in so Dally stumbled and reached for him and they met in a heap on the floor. Tim pinned him, looking down at him. "You think you deserve my cock?"

"You want me more than you _ever_ wanted anyone else," Dally said smugly. "You hate pussy. You want to be in me so bad you dream about it."

"I do not!" But he did. He got up off of Dally, pulling him to his feet. "Get on the bed and get started with the show."

"Someone's a little eager."

"I ain't the one beggin' for it."

Dally scowled. "Well you still owe me a suckin'."

Tim licked his lips blatantly. "Yeah, I guess I do. Lookin' mighty tasty, Winston. Now, _get to work_." He smacked Dally's ass, pushing him forward onto the bed.

Dally sprawled out languidly like Tim had actually paid for a chance to suck him off or something. He worked off his shoes, his socks, his jeans, and his underwear, all awkwardly, all at a record pace, belying his cool image for the moment. "Gimme the stuff," he said, holding out his hand expectantly, somehow looking cool and seductive again.

"You're lucky you look so good without those clothes on," said Tim, handing him the KY, which he could have reached if he'd just rolled over and stretched a little.

Dally grinned his naughty grin and coated his fingertips, spreading his legs to trace his crack tentatively before pressing the first finger in. He fucked it slowly in and out of his entrance. Tim suddenly found himself at full mast. He swallowed.

Dally's deep blue eyes caught Tim's and he grinned again, spreading his legs a little more. He went for the second finger. He had them in only about an inch or two, stretching slightly. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," he said.

"Shut up." Tim smirked a little too. The sight from the front of the bed was nice, but his knees were getting tired of kneeling. He stood and made his way to Dally's side, lying out on display just like Dally had, only on his side. Dal leaned over for a kiss, and Tim granted it. It wasn't long before Dally was working with both of those fingers.

Tim broke the kiss, trailing licks down his jaw and neck before he just skipped right on down, taking Dally into his mouth. Dally groaned and tried to pull his fingers free, but Tim held Dally's hand there, making him shift and grunt Tim's name.

Tim just sucked a little harder. He didn't do much in the way of technique. He figured it would help that they hadn't had sex in over a week. Their relationship was still strong, but they seemed to be having sex less and less. He brought Dally to orgasm, sucking him down, before reaching for his own cock.

Dally finally pulled his fingers out of his clenching hole, looking over at Tim. "Okay, that was good. Now, fuck me."

"You'll run out on me."

"I won't run out on ya!"

"You _will_."

"I _won't_!"

"I took care of you. Now either make yourself useful or go to sleep."

Dally glared at him, but Tim just kept stroking himself. When he was pretty close, Dally pressed him down onto his back, looming over him. "Next time, I'm putting my cock in you."

"I'd like to see you try."

"What if I tied you up while you was asleep?" He started peppering little kisses all over Tim's face, peeling Tim's fingers off his own cock to take over with some nice strokes of his own.

"You're too much of a wuss for that, Winston. You know I'd drop you in a heartbeat. And you're in love with me."

"You're in love with me too." He started sucking at the side of Tim's neck like he liked, making Tim groan.

"Not if you do _that_, I ain't."

"You're a real bitch sometimes, Tim. A real bitch." He dug his teeth into Tim's neck a little bit, speeding up with his hand as he increased the pressure, making Tim gasp.

Tim came all over his stomach and Dally's hand. Dally soothed the edges of the bite with his tongue. Dally went to clean up his hand. Tim fell asleep almost immediately, and Dally waited until he did to move.


	2. Chapter 2

There were certain things Buck was always in a constant supply of. One was booze, and one was rope. The former was a big part of the reason Dal stuck around so much. The latter was only a plus in certain situations.

Dally made up some bacon for himself, cooking nothing for Tim, and drank down some orange juice. That idiot still hadn't woken up. Good. He wanted to be there to see it. He swaggered back into the room and stood inside the open door, leaning in the doorway, just watching Tim sleep for a while before getting impatient.

He shucked his jeans, which were the only things he'd put back on, and he got up on the bed, straddling Tim.

Tim was a heavy sleeper, but he was jolted awake by the sudden weight on his stomach. He went to push Dally off of him, but his hands wouldn't move. His legs neither. He snapped his eyes open. "What . . . the _fuck_ . . . are you doin'?" he wheezed, squirming under Dally's weight.

"Tim?"

"Whhhat?"

"Where's that KY?"

"Fuck if I know. Maybe it's in the—NO!"

"Yep," was all Dally said, with a grin. He held up the KY. He'd already had it. He squirted some slowly onto his cock, stroking it up and down, grunting. "Mm, Tim, that sure is nice."

"Get away from me, Winston, and go finish yourself off somewhere," he said, trying to sound bored.

"How about finishing off inside you?"

"Leave me alone." He sounded just slightly more on-edge. "Winston, this ain't like you."

"Oh yeah?" He scoffed. "And what's like me exactly?" He prodded at the space between Tim's loosely spread legs with a fingertip. There was some slack in the rope, but not much.

Tim swallowed. "I don't want this," he said, staring warily at Dally's crouching form as he pressed against that entrance. "Dally, I don't want it! Dal, stop!"

Dally pressed it in, making Tim gasp. "No, don't," he said, trying to squirm away. But, though there was slack, the knots were strong. "What's gotten inta ya? Fuck!"

Dally hummed some tune or other, working that fingertip in farther and farther, wiggling it, stretching Tim.

"Dally! Winston!"

It was in all the way and he began fucking it in and out. He said nothing, just grinned this sort of crazy grin down in the direction of the motions of his finger.

And he pressed in a second one, and started the process all over again, making Tim wider. Tim tried not to tremble. This had never been part of the deal. He set his jaw, contemplating numerous ways to kill Dally for this kind of awful insubordination. He'd thought he'd had him tamed!

"I'm doing the third one. You know what that means," Dally said, as he went for finger number three.

"Yeah. Means you're a rapist," Tim spat as he felt the three prod at him before entering. Dally occasionally brushed against this part of him that blew his mind for that second, somewhere inside of him. He refused to make any noises but noises of protest, but even he had to admit it was almost good in those split seconds.

"I ain't no rapist if you want it." Dally seemed to start connecting a gasp or shudder from Tim on those movements with something he was doing, and he pressed forward again a little to see.

Tim gasped and closed his eyes tightly. "Fuck off, Winston."

Those greased fingers were stretching him. The feeling was very uncomfortable, except when he pressed forward like that.

"You're hard."

"Fuck off," he shivered as Dally rubbed at it carefully. "Shit! Fuck off."

Dally played with his body a little more, tapping against that spot, before pulling his fingers out and wiping the jelly onto Tim's side uncaringly. Then he pressed himself against Tim, and waited.

Tim finally looked up at him.

"Do you want it?"

Honestly? Tim didn't really know anymore. He just looked away.

Dally reached for the KY, closing it before he tossed it over the side of the bed. He untied Tim's wrists, rubbing at them a little. "Who's the strong one and who's the weak one, Tim?" he asked. "Tell me that."

He left Tim to finish himself off and figure out how to untie his legs.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim wiggled enough to get to his blade from his jeans and cut himself free, ignoring his heavy erection and the gel still lining his ass as he slid those jeans on and, carefully, fastened them up. "Don't you run from me, Winston!" he said, running out into the living room to see Buck and a girl sitting on the couch, watching television, drinking beer, acting as if the world hadn't turned upside-down.

"Hi, Tim." Buck went back to watching.

Tim stepped in front of the TV. "Did you see where Dally went?"

"No. And you ain't gonna find him if he don't wanna be found. You're blockin' the screen, you know."

"I'm gonna track that shit down and wring his neck!"

"Timothy, you don't talk that way around a woman," he said, nodding to his guest.

Tim gave Buck a "yeah right" stare until Buck kind of shrank a little in the seat. Then he was going back to Dally's room to get his shirt, fumbling with his shoes before he finally got them on.

He ran right out the door at full speed, losing steam when he saw Dally waiting out front in his car, dangling his keys. Then he just started running again, screaming and running, charging with his knife.

Dally threw the keys at him and hit him square in the face. He stopped, muttering to himself, clutching at his eye. "You little bitch!" He dropped the blade.

Dally took Tim's momentary distraction to his advantage, and by the time Tim had opened his good eye again, Dally had moved to the passenger seat and was smiling at him innocently. "I thought we'd go to the McDonald's. You can drive."

It was surreal. "I . . . well, it's my car." He crouched over to pick up the keys, wincing a little because his backside was still a little raw. He pocketed the blade, getting his balance.

"Naw, 'cause now you know I can be the 'FUCKER' too."

Tim's good eye narrowed, the bad one behind his hand. He looked at the big "FUCKER" Dally had keyed on his car when he'd gotten out of jail. Why hadn't he fixed that? "You know I shouldn't drive like this. I gotta get some ice."

"So I'm the fucker today? The bigger man? The one you gotta answer to? You're the second man in this operation?"

Tim stormed back to the house. Dally followed, slowly, smugly. "Look, I'll get the ice," he told Tim. "Lie down on the couch. Buck, ma'am, move."

Tim moved his hand. "Don't think you got the eyeball."

"Dally, you wanna knock an eye out?" Buck admonished.

"I wanna do more than that," Dally grinned, getting Tim an ice pack.

"Look," said Buck's girl, "maybe this is a bad time."

"Hey, when Dallas Winston lives with you, it's always a bad time."

She laughed a little and took the arm Buck offered her out to his pick-up.

* * *

Tim stared at the ceiling, icing his eye.

"C'n I get you a burger, baby?"

"Don't 'baby' me!"

"You want some fries with it? A shake?"

"Fuck off."

"Fries."

"Get outta here!" Tim yelled, throwing the ice pack at Dally.

"And a shake too. Right."

"I don't need this!" Tim sat up, fuming. "I'm gonna go out tonight, once the swelling goes down, and I'll get myself a couple broads to fuck."

"You hate pussy," Dally pointed out, reminding him lazily.

"Maybe what I hate is you, Winston. I don't wanna see you ever again." He moved over to the ice pack, picking it up with as much dignity as he could muster. "And I'm takin' this."

Dally watched him leave for a minute, then followed him. "I'll drive you."

"I'd rather wreck."

"You sure? It's a really nice car."

"Not after what you did to it."

"Well fine."

"I don't ever wanna see your ugly face around here." Now he was just kind of muttering darkly about whatever came to mind. "I don't know why I even wanted _you_ in the first place. No one's ever gonna want you but big, beefy guys in prison, and that's just 'cause you're scrawny." He slammed the door. Then he opened it again. "You pick-pocketed me for my _keys_?!"

Dally had a glint in his eyes that made it look like he wanted to strangle Tim, but he just shrugged and walked over, handing him the keys. "Don't wreck," he said, moving back toward his bedroom. "It'd just be embarrassing. No one will come to your funeral."

"_You_ would," he said toward the direction of the closed bedroom door.

"Maybe just to fuck your corpse."


	4. Chapter 4

"Go away, Two-Bit," Dally said before he even had a chance to sit down, covering the seats next to him in a gesture that held a hint of desperation.

"Aw, c'mon. That ain't fair." He sat down across from him at the table anyway, beer in hand, still swigging. "Whatcha celebratin'?" He only said this because Dally looked particularly mean that night, and not at all like he was celebrating something.

Dally had waited two days before showing up around town, just in case Tim was trying to show him up with some stupid broad. If he didn't know anything about it, it couldn't affect him. He was like ninety-nine percent sure that's what Two-Bit was bothering him for. He wasn't in the mood for Matthews right now. "Bein' alone," he finally answered. "Beat it."

"Sooooo. Saw Shepard's shiner," Two-Bit said with a nod, slurring the words so horribly it took Dally a minute to decipher them. When he did, he just nodded, tossing back one of the shots he had in front of him.

"Cut too. Whadya do it with?"

"Car keys."

Two-Bit grinned. "We could've called him old one-eye. Think he'd need a pirate patch? Arrrrr!" He made his hand into a hook and swung it clumsily toward Dally, who looked up again.

"Go pick on someone else. That girl over there's eyein' you."

Two-Bit shook his head. "Naw, she's lookin' at you. Turned me down. Look, if you and Shepard are over—" He didn't get any farther than that.

Dally leaned across the table to the chink of glasses knocking into each other, knocking over, and grabbed Two-Bit by the collar. "No one tells me what to do," he said lowly, pulling him just a little closer. He stared him down for a good ten seconds. "Pick up my tab." He let go.

Two-Bit struggled to right himself, taking another sip of his beer as he watched Dally walk toward the girl who had been eyeing him and ask her out anyway. He shook his head, making himself a little dizzy as he did. "Losin' it, Dal!" he slurred after Dally's form as he and the girl left together.

* * *

He lit up, really satisfied, offering her a smoke too. She didn't take it, just resting her soft head of hair against his chest. "Been too long," he expressed, cupping her ass gently in his hand.

"How long has it been?" she asked in her light, gentle voice. She seemed like she could take care of herself, but she was also nice. Not a combination he usually saw. She must be special.

"A couple months."

"For you? Oh, that's a crime." He chuckled and she giggled. "You're real good," she said. He stretched out a little underneath her smugly. "I was out with a boy a couple nights ago, but he wadn't as good as you. Didn't even care if I had a good time." She giggled again.

"I don't either," he pointed out.

She sat up on her side a little, looking at him. "Yeah you do," she said with a soft smile that made him smirk lightly, unthreateningly.

"I do, huh?"

"You do. I'm visiting family down here, you know? Gotta leave again in a few days. If you want my number, though . . . ."

"I'll get you a pen," he said. She grinned in the prettiest way.

* * *

"Hey, Pone!" said Two-Bit as he came in. "Dally and Shepard aren't fuckin' no more."

"No!"

"It's true. Tim's got the shiner to prove it. Dal threw car keys at him."

"Dally doesn't have a car. Not that he has keys to, anyway."

"I'll bet they were Tim's!" he laughed. "I gotta try it sometime. Sounds like fun!"

Ponyboy laughed too. Just the image of someone throwing _Tim Shepard's_ keys back at him and messing up his face was so surreal.

"Hey, though, Pony, you got any allowance?"

"Why?" he asked a little warily.

"I'm broke. Dal made me pay for his drinks last night after he stormed off with some broad."

"So they're really over."

"Oh yeah. The fat lady has sung. And by that, I mean Dal," said Two-Bit. "Pony, turn that TV up."

* * *

Ponyboy waited until the show was over to say, "Two-Bit, is it weird? That Dally and Tim were together, I mean. And I don't mean just because they're always fighting each other."

"You mean is it weird for two guys to hit the sheets? I guess it depends on how 'open-minded' you are," he said, tapping Ponyboy's temple with a finger. "Why? You ain't jealous, are you? I wouldn't have sex with ol' Tim if he paid me with his car and his sister."

"You didn't say no to Dally," Pony pointed out.

"Well, they're pretty similar. But they're not the same."

"Eww! Two-Bit!"

"You're the one who asked," he reminded him. "You didn't forget when I gave you the talk, all about the ladies?"

"When you weren't slurring your words, yeah," Ponyboy teased. Two-Bit punched him playfully.

"Look, there are guys who do it with guys too. But they all live in, like, California. None of them live here in Tulsa."

"Dally and Tim live in Tulsa."

"Yeah, but they're not doin' it anymore, are they?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "It's too bad. They were . . . I don't know. It was kind of . . . nice." He lowered his head a little.

"Ponyboy, you little romantic!" Two-Bit teased in a high-pitched voice, tackling Pony for a good old-fashioned wrestle.

* * *

Dally called Jill up again, the girl he'd met at the bar. Her aunt said she wasn't home, so Dally went back to the bar and nursed a couple beers. Buck's girl was there. "Is your friend okay? The one with the eye."

Dally shrugged.

"He musta really made you mad, huh? Then again, maybe you was just mad to start with. Buck tells me about the kinda stuff you get up to. Says you ride horses real good, though."

He smirked a little, still not really looking up at her.

"I got some change for the juke. Wanna dance a little? I'm sure Buck won't mind, long as you're respectful."

There was one thing Dally always did for Buck in exchange for being his houseguest, and that was stay away from his broads. He took her hand and led her out, letting her choose a song before they danced just a little bit.

"You're actually pretty light on your feet!" she said, a little surprised.

"Yeah, I'm full of secrets," he said, waggling his brows. He'd flirt, as long as it didn't end up anywhere. The type of broads who went for Buck didn't tend to go for him anyway. There was a reason for that: Buck was a pushover.

"Oh, you!" she said, smiling. Buck chose another song and cut in with a grin and Dally handed her over, returning to his beer, face a little flushed with the activity, smiling a little despite himself. Maybe he could have fun and not think of Tim, just like the other night with Jill.

Well, but who should come into the bar then but Jill and _Tim_! _Together_!

"Oh hell no!" Dally's eyes were wide. Suddenly that creep she'd been talking about had a name and a face. An ugly face. A face that was gonna pay! And it had nothing to do with the fact he'd been a bad lay for her.

Jill waved to him, smiling as she turned her attention back to Tim.

Dally walked over and tapped Tim, nodded his head in the direction of the door, went outside. Tim followed, and Jill, fretting a little, followed too.

"Now boys," she said. "Boys, calm down."

"Stuff it!" Dally snapped at her, staring Tim down. "You can't let me have nothin', can ya?"

"She gave me another chance, so I took it."

Jill looked from one to the other. They must have been friends. Or enemies. Or something.

"You?!" Dally laughed meanly. "You don't deserve second chances, Tim!"

Tim glanced over at her before pulling in a little closer to Dally and whispering, "And like you do?"

Dally glanced at her too. "Go on!" he said to her. "Get!"

Jill ran.

"Winston!" Tim moaned. "She wasn't even gonna be around for much longer."

Dally popped him right in the jaw. As Tim was nursing it, he said, "That ain't the fuckin' point."

"You wanna get yourself _killed_?!" Tim pulled out his blade.

Dally had an oh shit moment, reaching into his pocket and suddenly realizing all he had was a couple condoms and some Kools. He flinched.

Tim held the knife up in the light of the setting sun. "Who would even care if I killed you right now, you son of a bitch?"

"Everyone!"

"Oh yeah right. At least I got a family. You're all on your own. People'd just think you split town. I mean, it's a wonder you stuck around this long."

They glared at each other for a moment. Buck even peeked his head out to check and see if there'd been a massacre of epic proportions yet or what.

"So, I see the swelling went down," Dally said finally.

Tim reached up to touch it with his free hand, face softening a little. "Yeah."

"Were you really nicer to her this time?"

He slowly put his blade away. "What's it to ya?"

"I'm surprised you're turning into a gentleman, is all. Who knows how she managed that."

"It ain't the same, this thing with you."

"What thing? You don't wanna see me ever again. Should probably get that blade out again, finish the job before I get away with showin' up in your territory." Dally paused, letting the words sink in, then started heading back. But Tim flicked his blade out again, before it even reached his pocket.

Dally whipped around, only to be pushed back against the wall of the building and feel cold steel against his neck. He swallowed, looking into Tim's eyes. Tim ran the blade along that column of neck, drawing the faintest line, letting blood start to flow. When he saw Dally's resolve waver a little, he pulled the blade away. He kissed the line of red, staining his lips slightly with Dally's blood. He pressed those stained lips against Dally's.

"Fuck it up again and I'll fuck you up for real."

Dally stared after Tim, still flat against the wall, putting his hands in his pockets. Maybe Tim was becoming a gentleman after all.


	5. Chapter 5

Tim glanced back at Dally's form. "Come on, Winston." Dally shook his head.

"No," Dal croaked. "Let's go have a drink."

Tim came back over to him, gently wiping at that neck. "I thought I might really kill you." He wiped the blood on his fingertips off on Dally's shirt.

"Me too." Dally grinned, reaching for him, embracing him. Tim almost pulled away, but let him. "I ain't suggesting we never fight again, I just don't think we should pull knives."

"That's a bullshit agreement. I can't believe you didn't bring one! Getting careless." Leaving one arm around Dally, he dug around in Dally's pockets with his free hand to check if there was one there. "Great. You'd've been ready for that corpse-fuckin', only you'd be the corpse."

Dally leaned forward to rest his head against Tim, but Tim pushed him away. "You're dripping," he said in disgust.

"Who's fault's that, Einstein?"

Tim led him back inside by the hand. "What the fuck?!" Buck said, staring at Dally's neck. Everyone at the bar turned to look at them.

"Don't just stand there," Tim snapped. "Get the man a beer!"

* * *

Tim and Dally sat back in the corner, and no one bothered them, even if people did stare a little. Buck's girl brought them a lot of paper napkins, helping staunch the flow of the blood. It wasn't a lot of blood, and it looked worse than it was, but it was a little frightening to see someone come in with a cut throat.

"Okay, that's enough," Dally finally said to her, holding a couple napkins there himself as he shooed her away, resting his head on Tim's shoulder.

Tim bristled a little. "Damn. Everyone here won't know what to think," he admonished.

"They'll know exactly what to think, Tim," Dally drawled, letting his eyes close. He yawned, then grimaced at the strain it put on his wound. "Look, you can knife anyone who calls us fags, okay?" And he was out.

* * *

When Dally opened his eyes he was in the passenger seat of Bucks pick-up, bouncing around a little with the road. "Where's Tim?"

"Left almost an hour ago. You slept in that hard, wooden chair. Don't know how you did it. How's the neck?"

"I thought he was gonna kill me," Dally said a little dreamily.

"Yeah, okay . . . ." Buck thought Dally was absolutely crazy. It probably wasn't far from the truth.

* * *

He cleaned up the wound. It looked like it was gonna close up pretty good. It was light. It had stung, and still did, and was going to, but he'd had a lot worse. He put the bloodied shirt in the laundry pile for Buck and went to bed.

He was woken up by Tim in the middle of the night. "Dally, wake up. Wake up, come on."

He groaned, turning to look at him in the almost complete darkness.

"Are you up?"

He moaned. "Finish the job already. Just stop wakin' me up."

There was the sound of clothing rustling as Tim shifted, stripping to his underpants.

"Aw no, lemme get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow," Dally whined.

Tim rolled his eyes, not that Dally could see that. "Just lift up the sheet."

Dally grunted grumpily and lifted the sheet behind him. "What happened to you being a gentleman?"

Tim ignored him. "That ain't the part of the sheet I wanted you to lift." He lifted up the sheet on Dally's side of the bed, slipping between his legs. "Now unzip your fly," the bulge in the sheets commanded.

Dally felt himself hardening despite wanting to get back to sleep. He undid his jeans, helping Tim get them down a little by wiggling.

"Stop fighting it, Winston," he said, following it with two big, long licks up the side of Dally's cock. "You're my bitch."

"Tim, I sleep with a knife under my pillow."

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing," he went on, nosing at the shaft before leaning in to lap at the head a little. "It's just, the," he slurped, drooling a little, "way things are. It's meant to be."

Dally shivered. He parted his legs a little, shifting a little closer to Tim's mouth. "You wanted me to fuck you."

Tim stroked some of the wetness from his spit over Dally's cock. "Did not."

"Tim."

"Maybe a little. There's . . .it just . . . feels good . . . in this one part, and . . . ." He huffed defiantly, leaning in to take in as much of Dally as he could manage. Dally groaned and arched a little. He pulled off. "I'll show you what I mean."

"Now?"

"No. Not yet!"

"Then suck me off, dammit! Do somethin' or don't."

Tim spit into his palm and stroked a little more. "Stop bossin' me."

"Yeah, it don't feel good, does it?"

"Shut up."

"I ain't your fuckin' mother's teat! I'll talk while I'm sucked if I want to!"

Tim leaned in and blew hot breath over Dally's wet hardness, making him draw in a shuddery breath. "Damn, you sound so good," he praised. "When you aren't talkin', I mean," he pointed out.

"Fuck you."

"If you're really good, maybe."

Dally's eyes widened and he bucked just slightly toward Tim's face. Tim chuckled and leaned forward to take him into his mouth again. He started taking it into his mouth and pulling back. He got better at this every time he tried it, and he didn't mind the practice. He'd never admit how nice it was, feeling that length in his mouth, controlling it, tasting it, but it was.

Dally threw the sheet off, breathing getting a little more harsh as he looked at Tim's faint outline in the darkness. He curled his fingers in the hair at Tim's neck, making a weak little moan as Tim ate him. He finally released, Tim swallowing it all.

Dally stroked Tim's hair as they both caught their breath. "You swallowed," he said with a pleased smirk.

Tim shuddered. "Don't remind me."

Dally tugged him into a seated position. "Let me touch your cock. C'mon." He sat up himself. He drew Tim's mostly-naked body up between his legs, turning him around so his back was to Dally. He kissed a bare shoulder as he reached down to pull Tim out, helping him slide his briefs down. He nuzzled the back of his neck before kissing and sucking at it intensely, stroking quickly and relentlessly at Tim's cock.

Tim shot with a grunt, Dally's teeth still caught on the back of his neck, his tongue then soothing the dark splotch of skin.

Tim reached back and felt at it, panting for breath. "Great. Why don't you just put your jacket on me and buy me a ring already?"

"Don't be stupid. I'd never spend that kind of money on you. And you'd look stupid in my jacket." He leaned back, hands loosely holding onto Tim's stomach. "It don't bother me if anyone knows. It's alright that you're scared. I probably should be. But I'm not."

Tim huffed. "Still, a big old hickey?"

"Like you didn't give me one today?"

Tim frowned, glancing back at Dally.

"My neck, idiot. Speaking of." He let go of Tim to rub at it. "Uhn, this ain't cool."

Tim slid his briefs off, tossing them next to the rest of his clothes. "Come and gimme a bath, Dal."

Dally sighed, but joined Tim in the bathtub, where he was kissed and cuddled. "It's gettin' light out," he said, annoyed.

"You're like a little cranky kitten."

"What?!"

"You get all squinty-eyed and you whine. Here, lemme do your hair."

"You really love my hair, huh?"

"I've seen better."

"Well, you can touch it all you want," Dally said, grinning. "If you're good." Tim soaped up Dally's hair, kissing him deeply. He hadn't really seen better.

* * *

Tim was watching Dally sleep, leaning over Dally. His brow was furrowed like he was concentrating on something and his body was almost touching Dally's he was so intent.

"Uhn!" Dally flailed, eyes wild.

Tim rolled over onto his back.

"What the . . . what were you doing?!" Dally sat up a little and looked around before glaring at him.

Tim didn't answer. He just pressed a kiss just behind Dally's ear, got out of the bed, and dressed.

"Don't fucking do that! You listening to me?!"

Tim just shook his head in answer, smirked, and left.


	6. Chapter 6

Tim didn't usually fall for anyone. In fact, to be honest, he never had before. But as he walked home, he thought he must be, now. Why else would he watch Dally sleep, or want to bathe him, or sneak around in the night just to have a little fun? It's not like it could ruin his rep anyway. Dally and him would be a secret. They both liked being alive, after all. Mostly.

He winced, remembering celebrating their month anniversary. He'd let on too much. He just couldn't do things like that anymore. And, well, he certainly couldn't let Dal inside of him—inside of him for real, not just his heart or his mind. He hadn't made any promises. Promises were fatal.

He'd loved the feeling of Dally against that wall, at the blade of his knife. Of course he had. He liked power just as much as the next guy. But the best thing about it was he didn't think Dally would be looking for revenge. Maybe Dally was easy to tame after all, as long as he didn't know he was tamed.

Tim wanted to fuck him. He wanted to fuck him very badly. He had those slim hips and he was warm inside. It could be his last time with a guy anyway. Why let the chance slip by? It was different before. Before, he hadn't known about Dally getting taken in jail.

For a second he slowed a little on the sidewalk, imagining it. Dallas Winston, wiry-muscled little blond, pushed against a cell wall, maybe. Or maybe the wall of the shower. Or even taken in the bed, or over a table. Wherever. Shown what was what with the powerful drives of a hard, thick cock. Some big guy, grunting in pleasure as he took one of the few things Dal still had. Tim swallowed.

It was kind of a nice picture, actually. He didn't want Dally to cry like he had, no, but he might like a couple noises of protest and some moans drawn from him against his will. Wrists tied like he'd done to Tim.

But Tim shook himself. That wasn't all there was to the story. If Dal said he'd been young the first time, he really meant young. Tim wasn't completely heartless. He cared about his brother and his sister, to a certain extent. He tried imagining Curly, like he was when he was younger, having to take it, and felt a little sick. Dally must have been scared out of his mind—and quite literally, if he forgot the entire experience in order to protect himself.

And now he didn't really want to fuck him. Again. God, it was like he was goin' in circles! He wanted to trust Dally knew what he could handle, but how could he, when the last time they'd tried it Dally hadn't let on about anything and had _sobbed while on his dick_?

Tim ran back to Dally's.

* * *

"Stop messin' with my head!"

Dally looked up from his cornflakes, pushing them around the bowl. "What are you talking about?"

"You! Me! Fucking!"

"Look, if you want to, I'm ready."

"You say that now, but then you get all, 'Boo hoo, big cock in my ass.'"

"I didn't cry!" His grip tightened on the spoon and he had that dangerous look in his eye.

"Did too!"

"Take it back! If any cried, it was you. You cry from fuckin' your own hand! Fucking psycho."

Tim rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this."

"You wanna eat some cornflakes, Tim?" he growled. "Through your nose maybe?" He raised some soggy, dripping cornflakes up in the spoon before returning them to the bowl with a clink

Tim just started leaving. Dally suddenly jumped up and ran at him, tackling him.

"Ugh!" Tim rolled them over so he had Dally pinned.

"Don't go, okay?" said Dally, looking up at him with an almost innocent sort of expression.

"You're a piece of work."

"I love you."

"What?!" Tim jerked away.

"I love you, alright?" Dally said, sitting up and looking around to be sure no one heard him.

Tim helped him up off the floor cautiously.

"That's how I know I'm ready. That's how I know I, you know, won't be mad if I'm not. I just." He looked away. Tim tilted his head back by the chin. "I just know," he whispered.

The silence between them felt so long they were both crushed by it until Tim leaned in for a kiss.

When the kiss finally broke, Dally latched onto Tim tightly. "I know it ain't tuff."

Tim reached up to stroke Dally's hair. "It . . . it doesn't have to be."

He nosed Tim's cheek. "I just wanted to teach you a lesson."

"What lesson?" Tim asked softly.

"That no one owns me."

And suddenly, Tim realized that was true. It was Dally's choice to say he loved him. Dally was being the bigger man again. It was so strange to think about Dally being the bigger man for _that_. But it was true, wasn't it?

Dally chuckled softly, breath against Tim's neck. "Go on home. I'll see you later." He stood up straight, kissing him before letting go. "We'll figure it all out. Together."

"Together, yeah. I'll just . . . bye."

"Bye, Tim."

Tim lingered for a moment before smiling softly. "Bye." On the way home this time, he was a lot less uncertain about where Dal and him stood.


	7. Chapter 7

Buck was surprised to see Tim show up with some luggage and a smile. "Dal is fucking crazy," he said with a shake of his head as he pushed past Buck to drop his suitcase in the living room.

Dally was asleep on the couch, just taking a nap, and Tim sat himself on Buck's chair to do the same.

Dally woke him up about an hour later with the gentlest shake of his shoulder and an equally gentle kiss. "Hey there, Shepard." Tim slowly opened his eyes, rolling his head a little at the stiffness in his neck. Dally rubbed at it a little for him. "Good to see you feel the same way," he said, referring to his confession just a few days before.

Tim melted beneath the touch of the working fingertips. "Well, I never said that."

"You want to stay here in this house, and for more than just one night. Can you really look me in the eyes and say you don't love me? You ain't got anything to lose, you know. I already said it first."

"Harder," Tim murmured, groaning when Dally increased the pressure a little.

"Take your shirt off and I can get at your shoulders and all."

Tim slipped out of his shirt, making another soft sound of appreciation as Dally went behind the chair and pressed and rubbed at his shoulders. "You're good at that, huh?"

"Shit, I'm good at everything. Now say you love me, fool."

Tim didn't say anything, so Dally paused. Tim pressed back into the hands for more movement. "Don't just stop."

"You're such a girl sometimes, Tim. Man up."

"If you already know it, why do I gotta say it?"

"Because you're being difficult." He started working at the shoulders again, then had Tim lean forward a little more so he could get his back. "Buck ain't even around right now, so it's just for me. I swear I'll really fuck you if you don't say it." His left hand's fingertips trailed so low they rubbed over his tailbone. "I wanted to do it, you know. I ain't really into rapin' people, but I wanted to see what it would be like."

Tim was very quiet and, Dally knew, contemplative. He pulled back around the chair for another soft peck on the lips.

"You think you'd never said it before. Even to a broad or something."

"I haven't," Tim said, looking slightly afraid, and Dally's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Well, to your family, at least. Huh? I mean, you and Curly and Angela, you get along alright."

"We don't say that, Dal. Who says that?"

"I say that!"

"Can you just drop it?"

"No. No, I can't. I only say it when I mean it, and Tim, I love you. I know you love me too. I want to go steady with you. I want to be with you as long as we both still want this, and, right now, we do."

Tim looked down at his lap, not looking at Dally.

"C'mon," Dally said finally, taking him by the hand into the kitchen. "I'll heat some leftovers."

Dally set to work with tupperware and pots and pans and the stove and just barely heard Tim call his name softly.

"Yeah, babe?" He turned slightly to look at him.

"I love you."

Dally's face broke out into a slow grin. "Well would you look at that. You didn't die. You ain't even injured."

Tim rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back. Have to put my stuff in your room."

Dally stopped him on his way out of the kitchen and planted a quick, hot kiss on his lips that took Tim's breath away. "That was a reward," he explained, nuzzling Tim's cheek. "Now go move into my bedroom like a proper man-lovin' fag, Shepard."

Tim did just that.

* * *

"C'mon. I bet they all already know anyway. Two-Bit's such a blabbermouth."

"You just like shocking people."

"Don't you?"

"I'd rather scare people."

"Ain't it the same thing in this case?" Dally grinned.

"Are you sure they won't get us in trouble?"

"Naw. Your gang is great and all, but these guys are real. You can trust all of them. They're my family, along with Buck. And you now, of course."

"Of course."

Dally parked out front of the Curtises in Tim's car. "You like playin' cards, so don't whine no more. Free food too. Darry's practically a little housewife with the parents dead. Don't scare anyone too badly, though, huh?"

"I ain't makin' no promises."

"Yeah, well anyone's fair game but Pony. And I don't suggest getting on Darry's bad side. He could rip you apart and then tie you back together with your arms."

"I'll behave," Tim promised with a sigh. "I have a feeling I'll need their approval."

"Shit, I got 'em wrapped around my finger."

"Yeah, sure."

"Shut up. I do." He handed Tim the keys, leading him into the house, where Ponyboy greeted him at the door, smiling at both, before he frowned.

"What happened to your neck, Dally?"

"Tim cut me," he said with a grin, grabbing Ponyboy's hand and getting him to trace it. "Tuff, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Pony said. "Why'd you do that, Tim?"

While Tim was trying to formulate some sort of answer, Dal cut in. "You're better off not knowing," he said with a wink that made Pony blush and lead them into the living room.

"Dally's here, and he brought Tim," Pony said, sitting back down next to Two-Bit.

"Your eye's lookin' better," Two-Bit said to Tim.

Tim nodded. "Yeah. Look what I did to Dal in return. Show 'em, Dal."

Dally tilted his head back a little and everyone looked at the thin, but clearly visible line on his throat. Two-Bit gave a whistle. "Damn bastard probably would've killed me," he said when he thought they'd had a good enough look. He took his seat next to Steve.

Tim nodded in agreement at Dally's assessment, grabbing one of the last few chairs from the kitchen and squeezing between Dally and Ponyboy.

"You should be more careful."

"Aw, lighten up, Sodapop," Two-Bit said. "Ain't you never fought with your broad before?"

"Not with a knife, no. Not even keys."

"Well, maybe if your broad wasn't a broad," Two-Bit replied.

Everyone stared at Tim and Dally for a moment, finally getting it, before Tim said, "Well? Someone deal!"

Ponyboy slowly reached for the cards and started to shuffle them.

Dally glared at Two-Bit, then at the rest of them, and Darry excused himself to check on dinner. "Anyone that has a problem with the idea better keep it to themselves," Dally said, throwing an arm over Tim's shoulders, pulling him a little closer.

"I don't have a problem with it," Soda said quickly.

"Me either," Steve said.

Pony kept shuffling, face a little pink. He already knew about them, but Dally didn't know that.

Dally's hand crossed in front of Tim so he could stop Ponyboy with just a hand. "Pony, are you okay with the idea of Tim and me together?" He just looked so flustered.

"Oh, I already knew about it." Pony looked up, meeting his eyes.

"Yeah?" He pulled his hand back. "Good. Good."

"Hell, when I told Pony you two'd called it quits, he wanted you to get back together!" Two-Bit said with a laugh that made everyone join in, if still feeling slightly awkward.

"You're a good kid, Curtis," Tim said. "A good kid."

"So," Two-Bit said slowly. "Now that it's all out in the open . . . which one's takes it and which one gives it?"

"Keith," said Darry warningly, coming back out now that the awkwardness seemed to be over, mostly.

Tim and Dally looked at each other, deciding how they should answer, if they even chose to.

"We both do," Dal said finally.

"You both do?" Soda asked, a little surprised.

"But he likes it more," Tim said quickly.

"Hey!" Dally elbowed Tim hard in the rib.

"Let's play!" said Pony cheerfully, giving the couple one last fond look.


	8. Chapter 8

Tim had a damn amazing time. He was still laughing as they came in the front door. He'd really loosened up, showing off, having fun. Dally had regaled him with ridiculous stories about the boys, especially Two-Bit, on the way home, and he felt high off laughter.

Buck was surprised at Tim's good mood. "Thought you just got back from meetin' the fam. Guess it went okay?"

"Pfft, course it did. Everyone wants me boning their little bitch." Tim tweaked Dally's ear, pretty hard actually. "I'm perfect."

Dally rolled his eyes, batting him away. "We still ain't done it yet," he said. Then he looked at Tim pointedly. "Not all the way. So, I don't know what it is you're trying to brag about."

Buck kept quiet, though he wondered what could have kept them from consummating their relationship. Maybe Tim was just a really bad gift giver. Or something. Or maybe they had been too busy trying to kill each other. "How's that neck, Dal?"

"Oh, it's gettin' better. Think it'll look pretty fuckin' cool, when all's said and done." Buck nodded at this. "Hey, Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"Leave us alone," Dal said.

Buck put his hands up. "I'm gonna head out, okay?" His expression said to Dally, "tell me how it goes (but spare me the gritty details)." Tim didn't notice; he was too busy tugging at Dally's hair for his comment, and play wrestling with him.

"Tonight's my night," Dally announced as Buck pulled the truck out from its spot near the house.

"Oh yeah? Got something in mind?"

He shook Tim off. "Yeah. First of all, I wanna promise to fix your car. I've been, uh—"

"Kind of a dick?"

"Yeah."

"I guess I didn't listen to ya."

"Until I tied you up." Dally held onto Tim's wrists, holding them together. "You wanted it."

Tim took in a breath through his nose, and said, with confidence, "I wanted it."

"But tonight's _my _night," Dally reminded him. He gave the wrists a squeeze.

"Okay. Alright. I guess if I can say 'I love you,' I can fuck you in the ass."

"Right. But not just yet."

Suddenly, Tim was very wary. He was expecting a quick fuck, then bedtime. "What do you have planned, Dallas?" he said dangerously. "I'm tired of your fucking games. What do you got planned, you asshole?" Dally let go of his wrists, and Tim loomed a bit, getting in Dally's personal space.

"Whoa! Whoa. Calm down." Dally backed up a bit, heading over to Buck's record player.

"You are such a fucking girl!" Tim exclaimed as Dally found the record.

Dallas let it slide. Honestly, it didn't matter. They were doing what he wanted. He had the upper hand. They were alone. He didn't have to be tuff. Usually, he hated this soppy shit. But he and Tim, them together, they were just so fucking weird. They were so weird. A part of him liked to freak Tim out a little too. A big part.

"Dance with me a little bit. Just one song."

"I hate that song."

"Just one." Dally grinned, "It's important to me, Tim. It's our song."

"Shows what you know! We don't have one." But since no one had killed them the last time for dancing, he figured they'd still be pretty safe. They could blame it on the beer maybe, if someone saw them.

Dally proved to be warm and close and kissable, so it wasn't all that hard to give into the music and the dancing. "We'll never have a song," Tim said, still a little irritable.

All of a sudden, Dally broke away, turning the record off.

"What now?" Tim griped. "Make up your mind, why don't you."

Dally gave Tim a look that could only mean one thing: fuck me in the ass.

They made their way to Dally's room, Tim losing his poutiness pretty quickly.

"I, uh, have to admit. I been thinkin' about it."

"Oh yeah?" Dally grinned that grin Tim loved and hated. It was smug in all the right places.

"Yeah. Where's the KY?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Dally crouched down and reached just under the edge of the bed, handing it to Tim, who awkwardly accepted it.

"Well, get on the bed!"

"Okay." Dally was still grinning as he stripped out of his shirt and kicked off his boots, lying out on the bed. "You owe me. A lot. I hope you know that. And if you don't, well, you'll learn. You get me hot, Tim. After what happened to me, thought I'd never want to have to do this again. But you get me hot for it."

Tim took off his shoes. "Well, after you freaked out on me, I thought I'd never wanna have to do this again. But, somehow, shit, I do."

Dally stretched languidly. "I get you hot for it too. It's not hard to say, Tim. Admit it. You want me real bad. More than any broad." Dally spread his legs a bit, rubbing at the denim over his thighs. Tim's eyes followed the lines of the thighs to the place where they met.

"Don't be a bitch."

Dally licked his bottom lip involuntarily. "Ain't that what you want me to be?"

Tim paused. "Yeah."

"Come on. Undress, then make me yours. Once and for all, face to face. I may not have that nice a face, but you sure love to look at it."

"Well, your eyes," Tim said defensively, "are . . . wild." Fully naked, Tim knelt on the bed, crawling up to straddle Dally, who lay, relaxed, on the bed.

Dally cocked an eyebrow. "You really ready this time?" He reached down to grasp Tim, stroking him a little. "You sure feel ready here."

Tim made a little purring noise, nuzzling into Dally's neck. Suddenly remembering, he licked at the line he'd left there with his knife.

Dally wrapped his other arm around Tim, holding him close. When Tim finally broke away, they held eye-contact.

"Take my jeans off me?" It was a question.

"Okay." Tim brushed lips against the tip of his nose before kneeling over Dally to unfasten his jeans, rubbing at the bulge in the front.

"Mmm."

"'Mm' is right." Tim slid the jeans off Dally's hips, surprised at the lack of underwear. "You were waitin' for this all night."

"That's right. A lil' homecoming present."

"Let me finish unwrappin' it." He pulled the jeans off the rest of the way and tossed them over the side of the bed.

Tim enjoyed the sight of his naked . . . boyfriend, enjoyed how tight he felt around the fingers, but was unable to be completely without apprehension.

"I'm ready. Shit, that's . . . I'm ready!"

"Dallas." Tim gave him a stern look. "I agreed to do it. Just let me make sure you're gonna love every minute of it. Okay?"

Dally shut up, but pouted at him.

Tim remembered the last time, when he'd thought two would do it. He wasn't going to fuck around this time. Finally, he started to slick himself up. "I really do love you," he muttered.

"I know."

Tim positioned Dally, and himself.

"Tim, I trust you," Dally choked out, voice a little tight.

Tim met those wild eyes, only to notice a calm come over them when he answered, "I know."

Entering Dally felt like it took a lifetime; Tim and Dally would tell you the same thing. And it felt good. Dally moaned under Tim. A good sound. A positive sound. Tim proceeded to claim the heat he was invading. "Mm, Dal."

Tim found his rhythm, still a little hesitant at first, but Dally's reactions strengthened his resolve. Dally was moaning, yes, and he was also arching and rocking his hips, and cursing. In a good way.

The passion built. Dally was a pushy bottom. Of course he would be. "Tim," he said breathlessly. "Come on."

Spurred on, Tim did what he should have done weeks before, claiming Dally, having sex that was completely beyond his expectations. He'd always gotten off, but just the sight of Dally stirred him to new heights of passion. It was different than being with a broad; it really was.

Legs wrapped around Tim, pulling him even closer. "_Shit_, Tim."

Desperately, they writhed together, sweating, until Dally came. The entrance contracted, pulling Tim into his own orgasm, and, still joined, they moaned and caught their breath.

Tim eventually pulled out and curled his body around Dally's. They were sticky, and both a little sleepy.

"You're the best," Dally murmured.

* * *

Dally woke first and scrubbed at himself in the bathroom before getting dressed again. Tim woke sticky and alone, but he could hear the sound of running water. He joined Dally.

"I'm headin' out for a bit."

"Yeah? Where to?"

"To see Johnny."

Tim understood. He kissed Dally's shoulder. Then Dally surprised him.

"You wanna come with me?" He looked up at the mirror, their gazes meeting via the reflections in it.

* * *

The evening was nice, sunny with a slight breeze. It was a day that emphasized the beauty of nature. The site was just as Dally had remembered it. Grassy, quaint, with a few flowers. Tim thought about the little shadow who'd followed Dally around, and how he'd died a hero. He remembered the way Dally'd come to him, distraught, nearly dead from a police's bullet, and crying like a fool.

"He was, uh, he was kind of cool."

"Tim, no. You don't gotta—"

"No, I mean it. Tiny, real sad, but, uh, he was definitely someone worth protecting. Died saving people, just how he would have wanted."

"Shows what you know! He was afraid of dyin' so young. Who could blame him?"

"Look. At least you didn't die."

"Right. I mean, this kid goes into a burning church to save some kids, and he dies. But it's _good_ that the one who deserved to die—"

"You're wrong, Dallas," Tim said sharply, cutting him off. "Cade worshipped you. So stop it. You wanted the cops to end your life, then you wanted me to. That's disrespect. The _real_ disrespect. You should fuckin' tell him you're sorry!"

Dally gritted his teeth. "You didn't even know him! Fuck you, Shepard!"

"That doesn't mean I can't be right." He gave him a little shove. "I'm gonna go now. But I'm right, and you know it."

Tim came back in half an hour with a handful of flowers for the grave and a beer for Dally, who was on the ground, apologizing.

Tim cleared his throat. "Hey, good lookin'."


End file.
